


The Matchmakers

by mizjoelywhofics (mizjoelysotherfics)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Fivan, Five/Tegan, Fluff, Light Angst Quickly Resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizjoelysotherfics/pseuds/mizjoelywhofics
Summary: Nyssa seeks out Tegan for advice on love, then encourages her to have some tea in one of the TARDIS kitchens...where the Doctor just happens to be.
Relationships: Fifth Doctor/Tegan Jovanka
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	The Matchmakers

**Author's Note:**

> My very first ever published fanfic for any fandom, which appeared in the fanzine "The Cricketer" back in the late 1980s.

Tegan rolled over restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position. No luck. She sat up, grumpily thumped her pillow, and flopped back onto her stomach. Still no good. With a sigh of resignation, she sat up once again and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

The floor wasn’t cold, of course; none of the floors on the upper levels of the TARDIS were ever cold. They always remained a comfortable 63 degrees; no rugs needed and no cold shocks in the morning here—no matter where or when “here” happened to be. Contrarily, Tegan felt irritated with the floor for _not_ being cold. She glared down at the offending surface. “Not a proper floor at all,” she muttered under her breath peevishly.

She rose to her feet, still casting irritated looks at the floor, then stomped over to the dresser, flicked on the small light there, and looked at herself critically in the mirror. “Hair’s still too short,” she mumbled disagreeably. She’d been trying unsuccessfully to grow it for several months now. She continued to stare at her reflection, her dissatisfaction with it showing clearly. “And wouldn’t you know it--my eyes are puffy already. Haven’t even had a chance to let insomnia set in, and the blasted things are puffy already.” She glared accusingly at the offending orbs. “I should look a proper sight in the morning.”

A sudden knock at the bedroom door interrupted Tegan’s critical self-examination, and she started violently at the unexpected noise--it was well past midnight, not the usual time for visitors. _Now who could that be?_ she wondered, and felt her heart leap irrationally with a crazy hope. But no, even if it was him, it was much more likely to be some sort of emergency than...than what? she asked herself scornfully as she turned towards the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Nyssa,” came the voice of the Doctor’s other female companion. Disappointment filled Tegan’s throat for a moment, but she quickly chased it away. “Come in, Nyssa.”

The door opened slowly, Nyssa’s slightly tousled auburn curls and sleepy-looking face peeking around it to look at Tegan. “I saw the light--” she began apologetically.

“Come in Nyssa, please,” Tegan interrupted. “No need to apologize.” She crossed the room as Nyssa hesitantly entered, shutting the door softly behind her. Tegan plopped onto the edge of the bed, grabbing the robe that lay carelessly tossed at the foot and shrugging into it. “What’s up?”

Nyssa walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to her friend, staring morosely at her hands as they fiddled with the belt of her own robe. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Tegan snorted in a very unladylike manner. “Welcome to the club.” A bit self-consciously, she tied the belt to her robe more firmly around her waist. What she had worn to bed wasn’t exactly the sort of thing a woman who was sleeping alone usually wore--at least, not on Earth--and she didn’t want Nyssa to ask any embarrassing questions. Not that she hadn’t already seen what Tegan was wearing, of course; but by tying the belt firmly and covering herself up completely, Nyssa would get the hint. After all, she was a very intelligent young woman; she would understand the “I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it” signals she intercepted. Wouldn’t she?

Apparently not. “Is that what you sleep in all the time?” Nyssa asked curiously.

Tegan felt her cheeks grown distinctly warm, and laughed, a little self-consciously. “Not really, no. Just when I want to remember that I’m a flesh-and-blood woman, not some sort of world-saving robot.” She looked at Nyssa and asked “Why?” a little defensively.

The young Trakenite shrugged. “It just doesn’t seem very practical,” she observed, hastily adding, “although it _is_ very pretty.” She smiled a bit at her friend. “It seems a bit silly, though; I mean, if you’re going to wear that little, then you may as well wear nothing at all, like we do on Traken.”

Tegan’s eyes widened at this revelation. “You mean to tell me that you were wandering ‘round the corridors of the TARDIS with nothing on but that robe?!?” she asked incredulously.

Nyssa frowned, shaking her head slightly. “First of all, I wasn’t ‘wandering ‘round the corridors of the TARDIS’,” she objected. “I knew exactly where I was going. I wanted to talk and I know you haven’t been sleeping very well lately--”

“How did you know that?” Tegan burst out, a bit miffed that she’d been found out--and by the wrong person, at that.

Nyssa shrugged. “Oh, I dunno. You’ve been so tired and irritable lately, and your eyes are always red when you first get up. And,” she added shrewdly, “you’ve been drinking tons of that ‘coffee’ stuff you and the Doctor like so much.” She wrinkled her nose distastefully.

Tegan couldn’t help it; she burst into helpless laughter at her friend’s reaction. Neither Nyssa nor Adric could see the value of coffee, either as a stimulant or for its flavor, and both were quite vocal in their feelings. Adric was constantly arguing that if the two of them found it so difficult to wake up in the morning, which of course he had no problems with, there were plenty of more effective ways to do so. And as for Nyssa--

As for Nyssa, she simply stared at Tegan in some alarm, and wondered if the lack of sleep she had observed in the Earthwoman had begun to affect her mind. “Are you all right, Tegan?” she asked cautiously as the other woman’s hysterical laughter began to die down a bit.

Tegan nodded, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes as she attempted to regain control of herself. “I’m sorry, Nyssa,” she gasped. “I don’t know what’s come over me.” She burst into laughter once again. “It’s what we call a fit of the giggles back home,” she continued, when she could catch her breath. “Nothing to worry about,” she added reassuringly.

Nyssa shook her head doubtfully. “If you say so, Tegan.” She plucked nervously at the tie to her robe once again.

Abruptly, Tegan sobered. “Nyssa?” Her friend looked up, a troubled expression on her face. “Nyssa, is something wrong? Why did you want to talk to me?” Tegan asked, concerned at her friend’s downcast mood.

Nyssa gazed at her hands, nervously biting her lip, then looked sideways at Tegan’s concerned face. “Tegan? Would you mind if I…if I asked you a...personal question?”

“Sure, why not?” Tegan asked brightly. “If you want to talk, you know you’ve come to the right person,” she said jokingly, in an attempt to coax a smile from the other girl. “What is it, Nyssa?” she repeated seriously when her attempt only partially succeeded.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Have I...” For once, Tegan found herself at a loss for words.

“I know it’s none of my business--” Nyssa blurted, “--but I need your advice about something.”

“Advice about--being in love?”

Nyssa nodded slowly. “I hope you’re not offended, Tegan--I mean, it’s not exactly something that’s likely to come up in casual conversation here. But there’s no one else I can ask--and I hope you don’t mind,” she looked shyly at the older woman, “but I--I sort of think of you as an older sister.” She looked wistful. “I never had a sister.” She smiled nervously. “Silly, no?”

Tegan felt her throat close up with emotion, and suddenly found herself blinking tears out of her eyes that had nothing to do with laughter. “No,” she finally managed. “Not at all. I think it’s sweet.” She smiled, a bit tremulously. “You’ve paid me a great compliment.” Impulsively, she hugged the younger girl. “I never had a sister before, either.”

Tegan pulled away after a moment, surreptitiously wiping the corner of her eye. “Now that I’ve gone all weepy and emotional, I believe you asked me a question. And the answer is--yes.” She raised a warning finger. “But that’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to give you any good advice.” She made a sour face. “Sometimes being in love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Nyssa nodded eagerly. “I know. Especially when you’re not sure how the other person feels--or if they even notice you.”

Tegan threw a companionable arm around Nyssa’s shoulders. “Tell me about it. Sometimes it helps just to talk.” She smiled again. “But then, you’ve already figured that out, or you wouldn’t be here, right?”

Nyssa returned the smile gratefully. “Right.” She took a deep breath. “I hope you don’t think I’m silly, but--it’s Adric.” There. She’d said it. And no, Tegan wasn’t laughing. Nyssa felt her stomach begin to unknot a bit. She’d been so nervous, coming here in the middle of the night to talk about love, of all things, and Tegan looked as if she understood. Good.

“Adric,” Tegan repeated thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose it was unlikely to have been the Doctor.” She smiled at the look on Nyssa’s face. “I should’ve guessed.”

“The Doctor is more like an uncle or an elder brother,” Nyssa said firmly. “Not quite a father, but definitely not a lover.” She looked confused at the slightly shocked expression that came over Tegan’s face. “What is it?”

Tegan recovered herself, but not before blushing lightly. “It’s just that--well, different cultures, I suppose. I would’ve said boyfriend, or something like that.”

Nyssa frowned. “Why?” she asked reasonably. “He’s hardly a boy.”

“Never mind--like I said, different cultures,” Tegan interposed hastily. “Anyway, the Doctor isn’t the issue here. You and Adric are.” She smiled wistfully. “I think it’s lovely.”

“But he hardly even notices me, unless he needs help with something or unless all of us are in trouble,” Nyssa protested.

The smile faded from Tegan’s lips. _I know what you mean_ , she thought--but didn’t say. Nyssa needed help with her dilemma; she didn’t need Tegan’s problems added to her own. _Not that I have any_ , she hastily assured herself, and quickly returned her mind to the question at hand.

“Yes, well sometimes you just have to come right out and hit them over the head with things.” At Nyssa’s confused look--hitting someone over the head was something that rarely if ever happened on Traken, so the metaphor meant nothing to her--Tegan clarified. “Sometimes you just have to come out and say what you feel. And besides,” she added with a twinkle in her eye, “Adric may not be as oblivious as you think.”

At Nyssa’s enquiring--and hopeful--look, Tegan continued: “I’ve noticed him looking at you some-times--but only when you were too busy to catch him at it. I think that if you said something to him first, you’d be surprised at his reaction. _Pleasantly_ surprised,” she stressed with a return of her impish grin.

“Do you really think so?” Nyssa asked eagerly.

Tegan nodded. “I’d bet on it,” she said firmly. “There. Do you feel better now?”

Nyssa nodded happily. “Oh yes!” she exclaimed. “Thank you, Tegan!” She stood up, hugging her friend quickly before heading out of the room. “Thank you so much!” The door shut behind her, only to reopen immediately. “There’s some herbal tea in the kitchen; it might help you to relax enough to get to sleep! Bye!” This time the door shut for good.

“Bye.” Tegan stood up slowly, a thoughtful expression on her face. Tea did sound good--and at the very least, it couldn’t hurt. She returned to the dresser and picked up a brush. No one else was likely to be up at this time of night, but you never could tell. It would never do to be caught walking about like one of the living dead, now would it? She went into the small bathroom adjoining her room, splashed some cold water on her face, and headed for the kitchen.

**oOo**

The kitchen of the TARDIS was modeled after the ones Tegan was used to from the late 20th century Earth, but with enough alien and futuristic modifications to make it almost unrecognizable to someone from that era. The Doctor had a fondness for Earth, a trait that seemed to be the only one to carry over into all of his regenerations.

However, his traveling companions were often not _from_ 20th century Earth, so he had been forced to make a few concessions. Therefore, although there was a gas range, a standard side-by-side refrigerator-with-icemaker-in-the-door and a large double-sided sink, there was also a small fireplace complete with Dutch oven; an evaporator; a Gallifreyan-style microwave; and a 30th century Earth-style dishwasher and coffee-maker. The coffee-maker, by the way, was a concession to no one but the Doctor; it worked much faster and more efficiently than anything from Tegan’s time, but used the same ingredients and made the same sort of coffee she was used to.

The small dinette set that sat in the corner behind the door was also from Earth; solid, comfortable _ugly_ pieces of mid-20th century Americana, picked up on one of the Doctor’s early visits there. He had adamantly refused to get rid of the set, even when Romana had threatened to unravel his scarf if he didn’t. The scarf and Romana were both long gone now, but the table and chairs remained, coffee rings, knife scars and all.

The light was already on in the kitchen when Tegan pushed the swinging door open. She was surprised, but when she saw the kettle cheerily steaming away on the front burner of the stove, she assumed Nyssa had put it on for her. “How thoughtful,” she murmured, coming fully into the kitchen and breaking into a smile as she reached for the knob to turn it off.

“Hullo! What are you doing up?” came a voice from the opposite end of the kitchen. Tegan gasped at the unexpected sound, and whirled quickly around--

\--to see the Doctor just coming out of the pantry with the sugar bowl in one hand and a teacup in the other, a surprised expression on his face.

Tegan put a hand to her chest, feeling the pounding of her heart. “Oh Doctor, what a start you gave me!” she gasped.

“Terribly sorry,” he apologized, coming fully into the room. Like Tegan, he wore a short bathrobe over his pajamas; unlike her, he also wore a pair of scuffed and faded leather slippers. His short blonde hair was slightly mussed and his eyes were a bit sleepy, giving him a little-boy look that Tegan found irresistible. She smiled weakly, then released her death-grip on the stove knob.

“It’s all right,” she finally managed. “I didn’t realize you were up, that’s all.”

“Then who did you think turned on the stove?” he asked reasonably, setting his cup and sugar bowl on the counter and reaching up into the cabinet above. “Cup?”

“What? Oh, yes, please,” Tegan replied, still a bit flustered. “Nyssa,” she added, in belated response to his first question.

“Why should Nyssa turn the water on?” the Doctor asked as he took down Tegan’s favorite mug--the one with the hearts around the rim.

“Hmm?” Tegan asked absently, staring in consternation at the cup the Doctor now held in one hand. She hadn’t thought he’d noticed her preference.

“I said, ‘Why should Nyssa turn the water on?’“ the Doctor repeated patiently. A look of concern came into his eyes. “Are you all right, Tegan? You seem a bit...distracted.”

“What?” she asked dazedly, then realized with a start just how she must sound--not to mention look. “I’m sorry Doctor. I’m fine, really; just a bit...restless.” She smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid I haven’t been sleeping very well lately,” she confessed.

“So I’d noticed,” came the surprising response. “I didn’t want to say anything--you know how I _hate_ interfering in other people’s business...” This time, Tegan’s smile was completely unforced; that was an old joke of the Doctor’s--although he did sometimes seem to forget that it was a joke.

“I didn’t think anybody’d notice, and now I find that _everyone_ did,” she said, somewhat waspishly. “Next thing you know, _Adric_ will come up and say something to me!”

“And what exactly did Nyssa say?” the Doctor asked, then added, “and you _still_ haven’t told me why she would have turned the kettle on!”

“Oh, she couldn’t sleep either,” Tegan replied uneasily, “so we had a little chat.”

“The water--” the Doctor prompted.

“Oh. Right. The water.” Tegan cleared her throat uncomfortably. “She suggested that cup might help me to relax.” She smiled briefly. “Said I’d been taking too much coffee--implied it, anyway,” she corrected herself.

“Hmm. Yes, well, she said something like that to me, too,” the Doctor confessed.

“That you’d been taking too much coffee, or that tea would relax you?” Tegan asked curiously as she finally moved away from the stove to sit at the table.

The Doctor busied himself with finishing the tea preparations as he replied. “Both, actually.” He coughed, a bit embarrassedly. “She caught me wandering ‘round the corridors a few nights ago, I’m afraid. She was finishing up some experiment or other that she and Adric had cooked up in the chem lab, and lectured me on the value of a good night’s sleep, the sedative qualities of herbal tea, and the detrimental effects of too much coffee.” He paused. “Pretty much all in one breath, too,” he added reflectively. “So.” He turned to Tegan. “Why haven’t you been sleeping well, hmm?”

Tegan shrugged as he carried the cups over and placed them on the table. He leaned over her shoulder to put hers within reach, and she found herself shivering involuntarily at his proximity. She also found herself clutching the front of her robe nervously, as if afraid he could see through it to what she was wearing underneath. Fortunately, he seemed to notice neither of these reactions as she formulated a response to his question. “I dunno,” she finally managed as he moved to his own seat, directly opposite hers. “Nerves, or something like that,” she added vaguely. She shrugged. “Maybe it _is_ too much coffee.”

“Maybe,” the Doctor agreed thoughtfully as he gazed into his teacup. “Although,” he added slowly, “I’d be more inclined to say that the sleeplessness caused the higher consumption of coffee, and not the other way ‘round, hmm?” he looked up, but Tegan refused to meet his eyes, merely shrugged again. “Well. Ah, why couldn’t _Nyssa_ sleep then?” was the Doctor’s next question.

Tegan was grateful for the change of subject, even though she _knew_ the Doctor never changed the subject without an ulterior motive. “She just wanted to ask me about something,” she hedged.

“About what? Anything serious?” the Doctor asked curiously.

“Well, she didn’t exactly swear me to secrecy,” Tegan began reluctantly, “but I suppose it _could_ have some sort of effect on our little ‘family’ here...”

“Yes? What is it?” At Tegan’s further reluctance to elaborate, the Doctor felt a tinge of concern. “Tegan,” he said firmly, leaning forward to grasp her shoulder gently, “if it could affect the TARDIS, I rather think I have a right to know what it is.”

“Well, it’s not so much something that could actually affect the TARDIS as it is something that could affect her relationship with Adric,” Tegan clarified, uneasily aware of his hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, is _that_ all!” the Doctor exclaimed, relief obvious in his voice as he abruptly pulled his hand away to cradle his cup.

Tegan stared at him for a moment in bewilderment. “What do you mean, ‘is that all?’“ she demanded.

“I was wondering when one of them would get ‘round to doing something about it,” he answered easily.

“You mean you _knew_?” Tegan asked incredulously.

The Doctor smiled. “Who do you think gave them the idea for all those experiments in the chem lab?” he asked innocently. “Long, drawn-out, but terribly _interesting_ experiments...”

Tegan continued to stare at the Doctor, disbelief written on her features, then felt the giggles fighting their way out again. Finally, after a heroic struggle, the giggles won--

\--and the Doctor found himself staring bemusedly at the young Earthwoman seated across from him at the table in much the same manner that Nyssa had stared at her earlier, not sure exactly what had started her helpless laughter, but relieved that some of the tension he had sensed in her throughout their entire conversation had finally eased.

As her laughter calmed, Tegan pointed an accusing finger at the Doctor. “You!” He put a hand to his chest in a mute, “Who, me?” gesture. Tegan nodded. “Yes, you!” she repeated. “You--match-maker! You knew how poor Nyssa felt--”

“Not Nyssa!” he protested. “Adric! He’s been mooning about the TARDIS like a lost soul. And I am _not_ a matchmaker,” he continued, with an air of wounded dignity. “I merely--gave nature a little push,” he said, with a demonstrative gesture.

“Well, not enough of a push,” Tegan snapped back. “But I think the ‘little push’ I gave Nyssa tonight will settle things between them once and for all.” She leaned back in her chair smugly, sipping her now-cooled tea and oozing satisfaction.

“Really, Tegan,” the Doctor said in exasperation, “I do wish you’d let well enough alone once in a while.”

“Me?!?” Tegan exclaimed in disbelief. “What do you mean, me?”

“Honestly,” the Doctor said in the “now-let’s-be-reasonable-about-this” tone that all of his companions, past and present, knew and hated, “think about it.” He put his empty teacup down firmly on the table before him. “Adric would have said something soon enough--especially with the encouragement I was giving him.”

“You call scientific experiments ‘encouragement’?” Tegan asked scornfully. “If it was up to _you_ to help them, they’d still be barely speaking to each other!” She stood up and glared down at the Gallifreyan, hands flat on the table.

The Doctor also rose to his feet, an angry expression growing on his face as well. “And I suppose that _you_ are the local expert on adolescent love,” was his sarcastic rejoinder.

They were practically nose-to-nose at this point, both leaning over the small table, too wrapped up in their argument to notice how close they’d become. Tegan also failed to notice that the trailing tie to her robe had flipped up on the table when she stood up, and was now firmly caught beneath one of the Doctor’s hands.

“Well, at least I’ve _been_ in love,” she hissed. “For all that you’re 900 and however many years old, you don’t ever seem to have felt _that_ particular emotion--at least, not romantically. In fact,” she continued, eyes blazing, “I’m surprised that you can recognize it at all, since you can’t seem to see it even when it’s right under your own nose--” she stopped abruptly, eyes widening in horror as she realized what she was revealing--both to herself and to the man in front of her.

As for the Doctor, he simply stared back at her, mouth open for a scathing comment he suddenly felt unable to deliver. With a gasp, Tegan whirled away, giving in to an urgent desire to flee. But alas, ‘though the spirit was willing, the clothing was weak. The belt, still caught beneath the Doctor’s hand, came very neatly undone, and Tegan’s sharp movement caused the robe to jerk halfway off her shoulders and open completely in the front.

Although she felt the shift in her clothing, it was too late for Tegan to stop her forward momentum. by the time she’d spun away from the table, the robe was halfway down her waist, and the “unpractical-but-pretty” negligee that she’d worn to attempt to cheer herself up that night was revealed. With a look of betrayal at the tie, Tegan clutched desperately at her clothing and frantically attempted to cover herself while simultaneously trying to a) free herself from the Doctor’s unwitting captivity and b) leave before he could say anything to her.

Too late. “Tegan.” At the sound of her name she calmed somewhat and stopped grabbing a random bits of clothing. With a sigh of resignation at the inevitable, she slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder.

“Tegan,” the Doctor repeated gently, “you’re trembling.”

_And so I am,_ she thought dismally _. I_ knew _I should’ve stayed in bed. Tea, indeed. This has done bloody wonders for my nerves._ Outwardly, she merely shrugged, then bit her lip to keep the flippant remark she felt coming out inside, where it could do no further harm.

“Tegan.” The third time he repeated her name, she finally forced herself to look directly at the Doctor, into his eyes instead of over his shoulder. He’d moved around the table to stand directly behind her, freeing the belt at last. Tegan felt her hands automatically pulling the robe back up over her shoulders, even as her mind remarked cynically that the damage had already been done.

The expression on the Doctor’s face was unreadable as he slowly reached for Tegan’s shoulders and pulled her around to face him fully. “It’s lovely,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Thank you,” Tegan whispered, feeling completely conscious of his hands on her shoulders as she felt her face burn. She realized suddenly that she was not only trembling, but that her heart was hammering so much that she wondered hysterically if it was going to beat its way out her chest. She cleared her throat nervously, wondering how soon she could trust her suddenly-unsteady legs to carry her to her room--and safety.

The Doctor interrupted her frantic thoughts with a question, asked in that same quiet tone of voice. “What did you mean, Tegan?”

She knew exactly what he was referring to; worst of all, he knew that she knew. She could tell by the expression on his face. Still, she had to try...”I don’t understand--” she began.

“You said,” the Doctor interrupted smoothly, as if he had been expecting her to protest her ignorance, “that you were surprised that I recognized romantic love, and that I couldn’t see it even when it was right under my nose. Now stop trying to put me off.” His voice remained soft, but his tone brooked no argument. “Answer me, please.”

His grip on her shoulders tightened only fractionally, but Tegan was hypersensitive to his mere presence at this point, and felt each finger on each hand quite distinctly. She swallowed, finding herself for the second time in one night at a loss for words--a new world’s record, that cynical voice inside her head noted. She ignored it, took a deep breath, and forced herself to speak.

“Well, if you must know--” she began defensively, then stopped. She lowered her eyes, then began again in a rush: “If you must know, I think--that I’m falling in love with you.” She bit her lip once again, then stole a glance back up at his face. “In fact, there’s really no ‘think’ about it,” she admitted softly.

The Doctor slowly let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Well,” he said, finding himself as much at a loss for words as Tegan had been a moment earlier. He’d suspected... _something_...but this--this was well beyond anything he’d considered.

What Tegan felt at that moment was as much like embarrassment as a gentle summer rain was like a raging thunderstorm. She wished desperately that the floor of the TARDIS would suddenly collapse and carry her away with it, away from this situation and all its implications. _Now I’ve gone and done it,_ she thought as she turned her head away again. _I’m Earth-bound for sure this time. There’s no way he’ll feel able to let me stay after that little revelation. After all, at least Nyssa’s in love with someone who can return her feelings, someone without obligations to the universe...someone accessible._ She pulled away from the Doctor at this thought, practically running for the door.

Before she could reach the questionable safety of the hallway, however, Tegan felt the Doctor’s hand on her arm, stopping her in mid-step. “Tegan,” he said hesitantly, “please don’t go.”

She swung around in sheer surprise, as much at the slightly pleading tone in his voice as at the fact that he had bothered to stop her at all. Hesitantly, she looked over her shoulder at him, then turned with her back against the door as he stepped nearer and released his grip on her forearm.

“My dear Tegan,” the Doctor murmured as he reached out to gently touch her cheek. She braced herself for an apology, for him to tell her how sorry he was that this had happened, how she _must_ understand that he had responsibilities as a Time Lord--that she had to be sent home. For her own good, of course, since he couldn’t possibly return her feelings...Tegan felt his fingers cup her chin, and closed her eyes to try and keep the tears she felt welling up from spilling over. Then, something touched her lips with the softness of a feather, and she opened her eyes in shock to find the Doctor kissing her...

**oOo**

In the chem lab, Adric leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. Seated next to him, Nyssa leaned forward and flipped off the switch to the small monitor on the counter in front of them, then turned to Adric and smiled. “You were right,” she said, “they never even noticed the camera we put over the pantry door.”

Adric grinned in return, then slid an arm around her shoulders. She leaned back comfortably. “I _told_ you it would work. Get them busy ‘helping’ us get together, and they’d finally admit their feelings for each other.” He shrugged modestly. “Can’t help it if I’m a genius.”

Nyssa pulled a face at this false humility, then frowned thoughtfully. “I was a bit worried there, for a moment--when they started arguing.”

Adric squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Look, you know those two. They’ll always argue. It’s their nature. Tegan’s stubborn and knows it, and the Doctor’s stubborn and won’t admit it.” He shrugged again. “They’re made for each other,” he said with finality.

Nyssa nodded. “I suppose you’re right--and don’t tell me it’s because you’re always right,” she added with mock severity. She glanced at the small chrono sitting next to the monitor. “We’d best get back to our rooms--if they pass this way and see the light they might get suspicious.”

Adric nodded his agreement. “I’ll get the camera tomorrow before they get up for breakfast, and they’ll never suspect a thing.”

Nyssa smiled contentedly. “And now we can stop sneaking about, pretending not to notice each other,” she said happily. “I hate having to come up with excuses when the Doctor catches me out late at night. After all,” she added “we finished those experiments _weeks_ ago!”


End file.
